At Grimmauld Place. ( My chapters written with the help of ChatGPT)

Hermione stirred in the darkness, her eyes fluttering open to the dim glow of moonlight filtering through the heavy curtains. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what had woken her, but as she lay there, staring at the ceiling, she became increasingly aware of how awake she felt. She shifted onto her side, tugging the blanket closer, willing herself back to sleep.

It didn’t work.

Her mind had already begun its restless churn, jumping from thought to thought—unfinished tasks, books she wanted to read, things she needed to discuss with Harry and Ron. She sighed, rolling onto her back again. The old bed creaked beneath her, the air in Grimmauld Place cool and still.

After several more minutes of tossing and turning, she admitted defeat. With careful, deliberate movements, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet meeting the cold wooden floor. The house was silent. Everyone else was still asleep.

If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well get on with her morning.

She reached for her dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around herself before making her way toward the door. Moving as quietly as possible, she slipped out into the hallway, the dim corridor stretching before her in the stillness of the early morning.